27 Years
by Gipity88
Summary: This is the 27 Years series, where I write a one shot for every year of Sam Flynn's life. They will not be in order. I hope you enjoy.


"Dad! Slow down!" Sam called out with a low laugh, gripping the handlebars of his bike tighter as he pedaled faster, trying to catch up to his father as he raced ahead of him on his own bicycle. His father didn't seem to hear him however. He kept moving ahead, creating more and more distance between him and his son.

"Dad!" The boy called out again as he stood up on the pedals, trying to go faster and faster. No matter how fast he went though, his father never got any closer. He never slowed down. "Dad! Stop!" The child's light brows furrowed as he stared at his father's distant figure. What was he doing? Why was he riding away from him like that? Was he playing a game he had forgotten to mention? Whatever it was, it was quickly become very unamusing.

"Come back!" His voice cracked this time, his denim clad legs burning as he pedaled, still trying his hardest to catch up with his father. He failed to notice how the road never turned, or how the scenery beside them never changed. All he noticed was his father, becoming farther and farther away from him. "This... This isn't funny!"

"C'mon, kiddo! Catch up to your old man!"

It was so faint, like a whisper that was spoken right above his head, and not a yell coming from yards away. "I'm trying!" His voice was strained, feeling like his bike was going to break soon due to the speed he was going. He heard nothing from his father again. He didn't even turn to look and check on him.

"Dad! Stop! Please!" He shouted, his voice screeching somewhat as it hit a higher octave. His breathing became heavier, not only from growing fatigued, but from the feeling that there was something heavy sitting on his chest. He felt the pedals becoming more and more difficult to push, like he was suddenly submerged in a pool of molasses. "No! No! C'mon!" He cried out as he jerked his bike, though it didn't do any good. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion, except for his father.

The man was barely recognizable now as he grew smaller against the faint blue sky of the horizon ahead, Sam feeling like he was at a stand still now, no matter how hard he tried.

"Watcha doin', man? You gotta catch up! We're on the same team, remember?"

"I do! I remember! I'm trying!" More cracks surfaced in Sam's voice, his throat feeling swollen. As his dark blue eyes looked ahead, he could only scarcely make our his father's figure. "No! Don't leave me!" The boy screeched to a halt, jumping off of his bike as he tossed it to the side. He started to run after him, "Don't go! Dad! DAD!" He shouted as he ran, but like on his bike, he didn't seem to be going anywhere. It was like his legs could hardly move. No. This couldn't be happening. He had to get to him.

Even as the figure disappeared completely, Sam continued to try to run, trying to get somewhere, trying to get to him, but it was no use. "No." He whispered breathlessly as tears threatened to form in his eyes, finally coming to a stop before he collapsed onto his hands and knees, the gravel rough and hot beneath his soft young skin, "Come back, Dad. Come back." He croaked, before he suddenly felt somebody grab his shoulders.

He woke up.

His round eyes snapped open, sucking in a gasp as he snapped into a sitting position on his bed, right into the comforting arms of his grandmother. "Shh, Sam. It's alright. You're alright." She attempted to calm him, her eyes filled with worry as she watched him attempt to catch his breath, his face and shirt drenched with sweat.

"No. No. He's gone. Why couldn't I catch him?" He panted, his heart pounding hard against his chest. His Gram opened her mouth to say something, but he didn't let her. "Why couldn't I catch him? Why?" His frustration towards himself surfaced as he hollered, his small clenched fists hitting the plush blankets that covered him. "Why!" He broke down suddenly, letting out a sob. He leaned towards his grandmother as she wrapped her arms around him and cradled him close to her. She started to rock him from side to side as she stroked the back of the eight year old's head.

"Shh, shh. It's not your fault, Sam. It was never your fault." She whispered soothingly, closing her eyes. "Don't blame yourself, sweetheart." She placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head as he only cried in response and didn't argue with her. She had become used to the nightmares, but it never got any easier to watch him struggle as much as he did.

She sat there with him and held him close, doing her best to console him by humming and rocking him, until finally he fell back asleep. She laid him down and covered him up to his chin with his blankets, before she brushed back his mop of hair and placed a ginger kiss upon his brow. She stood up and gave him one last look, as if to assure herself that he was alright, before she turned and left his bedroom, hoping the boy would sleep peacefully through rest of the night.


End file.
